got some skeletons I haven't seen in ages
by JannP
Summary: He won't ever be done grieving because her decisions will linger. She's left footprints and fingerprints over important times on his life. He isn't naïve enough to think this is the biggest one, but it's the one happening now. He has a son. Sorta spoilers for 4x08. Probably AU, sort of canon-compliant. Oliver reflecting on legacy, future, and family.


**A/N: This probably isn't how things will go tonight, but it popped into my head and happened fast. I don't know if it counts as spoilers for 4X08 or not, since the key thing happened on The Flash last night. Thank you for reading if you do and thank you two times if you read and reply.**

 **(Edited after posting: I originally used the mother/son names from the comics but have changed them to reflect the names given in the episode. I read through the production logic on using different names and I kind of like it, so I'm going with it. Obviously my story is not canon or anywhere near canon.)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Title and inspo from 'Call It In The Air' by The Cinema.**

* * *

 **got some skeletons I haven't seen in ages**

Oliver takes the train back from Central City once the whole mess with Barry and company is sorted out, not because he isn't on a schedule but because he needs time to think. It went through him faster than any sword or bullet, sharp disappointment and anger and confusion all rolled into one overwhelming instant.

He told Barry he's been more at peace now that he and Felicity are solid, and that was an absolute truth from a guy who, though he's doing better, excels at incomplete honesty. It's all shifted now. It isn't that he's less sure of his relationship, but it sucks so hard that he started dealing with the future and building it one brick at a time and then had the whole thing knocked down by a blast from the past. He didn't know it was possible, didn't see it coming, but he should have.

When he'd had that fateful one night stand, during a brief 'off again' from his relationship from Laurel, the only person who knew about it was his mom. All her duplicity and defensive maneuvering in a constantly twisting 'mother knows best' should have revealed a few flat truths. The first of which is he won't ever be done grieving because her decisions will linger in his life forever. She's left footprints and fingerprints over huge and important times on his life. Some of them were missteps, trespasses, and it works both ways. They were his and they were hers and they'll always be mixed together, always be a part of him and who he is now. He isn't naïve enough to think this is the biggest one, but it's the one happening now.

He has a _son_.

While he has no reason to doubt Samantha's capability, and no reason to doubt she made the best decision she could, it hurts in a way he's never hurt before. He thought he had them all covered but he was so wrong.

The train moves a little faster than his ability to make a decision.

 _William_.

He doesn't even know if he's got options. He's made a life out of making choices that weren't necessarily his to make, though, so that gives him some wiggle room he thinks. William is a nine year old boy who lives in Central City and doesn't know anything about his father. What does Oliver know about William's father?

He wasn't a kid, but he was immature and selfish. He wasn't selfish enough to wish away a baby. When Samantha had first told him and confirmed the baby was his, he just knew. He could feel it. That probably wasn't good enough for Moira Queen, though. He could see how she had handled everything so clearly, her hand swiping through to clean up his mess. He didn't totally understand how she could stand in front of him, right after he'd gotten the call from Samantha claiming the baby was lost, and soothe him. He'd been upset, ready to own the mistake absolutely in spite of his all-consuming terror over the very idea, and she had just told him that was how things went sometimes. How could she tell him to be grateful for the future she had bought and paid for again, when it wasn't real?

He sighs, shifts in his seat, and leans against the window. How could she _not_? Moira had always been a warrior for her children, making unflinching decisions and smoothing over their mistakes time and again. It wasn't that she was a snob, bent on propriety or social structure. She instinctively knew their capacity for truth and then drew a line well below it. While he had wished she would be more honest, and had been granted a whole ten minutes or so of relief where they were wholly honest with each other before Slade happened, he has some perspective now.

He just wished she was around so he could ask her what the hell she'd been thinking. Did she do it because it was best for _him_ or because it was best for _them_?

Before the island, he wasn't fit to be a parent. He couldn't take care of himself or his partner who, at the time, he wanted to be Laurel. He may have messed around and partied, selfishly threw away chances with her because he knew there would always be another one, but he wanted to settle down with her eventually. She would tolerate his bullshit and, for as smart as she was, he could lie to her pretty easily. He could have the best of both worlds that way. Why wouldn't he want it? He just didn't want it _then_. That version of Oliver was interested in competing with Tommy by getting phone numbers, drinking until he woke up sober and then heading to a different place to do it all over again, even dabbling in drugs in an effort to find some sort of new thrill. He'd been in more than one fight, had spent more than one night in jail, and continued to push the limits of what he could smile or bullshit his way out of.

That's who he was the day he admitted to his mother how supremely he fucked up. He was high when got the phone call from Samantha and had showered three times before he went to Moira because he could smell alcohol on himself like it was seeping out of his pores. He was pulling away from the habit of asking his mother to fix his problems, preferring to talk his way out instead, but there had to be a reason he'd gone to her. Part of him had to be looking to her to fix it for him because you couldn't talk your way out of that.

His father had never flinched about being a dad. They'd had their ups and downs, but he had always known his dad loved him in spite of being disappointed in his poor grades or lack of work ethic. This, though, was different. This wasn't something he could fix by agreeing to an internship. He couldn't talk to his dad and be tough and logical. Not about a baby. And not about infidelity because he didn't think Robert would understand that either. Robert would kick his ass. That's why he's gone to his mom. She wasn't any less tough than his dad, but there was something else around the edges, a slightly softer touch for a more delicate problem.

Of course, now he knows how incomplete that thinking was. His parents had repeatedly cheated on each other and had done some underhanded things to their family and the city. Nothing he'd thought then, as a scared kid looking to his mother for help or comfort, was true.

Since he's been with Felicity and has come around to the idea of being a true partner, flirting with proposing to the point there's still a ring hidden in the home they share, he's been thinking a lot about legacy as a concept. Really, that thinking happened before, but now he's not thinking of what he would leave behind as much as he was thinking of what they're building. He'd left a legacy of protection, service, and an indefatigable, relentless spirit when he'd left for the League. The momentum had continued when he and Felicity took off. He wasn't worried about that.

He's thinking in terms of marrying her, though. Of maybe, one day if she wants, having a family that includes more than just the two of them. After watching Digg shift into fatherhood on the fly, and after his experiences in Hong Kong with Akio, it's at least crossed his mind. He's never been terrible with kids because he's practically one of them, just bigger. That didn't change entirely on the island, didn't quite get beaten out of him. He wonders, though, if he's just meant to be the benevolent uncle. He's a fastidious protector, has made a lot of mistakes in that role, and probably has no real business discussing consistency with anyone ever. Not to mention he's still terrified of loss, still mistrusting and private. Still taking risks. His forward focus and his time with Felicity hasn't completely changed him, it's just relaxed those things under certain circumstances. Even if he's opened up to some people, put himself out there to run for mayor, and even if his risks are more measured-they're still real. Would he leave the kind of legacy where he could be a good man, a good father, and a good husband? He's barely accepted the first, has no idea on the second, but he's pretty sure he could do the third.

And he's kind of aching for his mother's counsel on this one. Part of him wants to rage at her for all of it, but he was _her_ legacy. He knows she did her best. Without the freedom she secured with a huge deposit, he never would have gone on the boat, never would have learned how to be the man he is now, never would have been where he is as he heads home to his favorite person in the world.

Does he want to give Moira that much credit?

Yes. That's the answer. Even on the night she died, she made a new commitment to him and Thea, to trust them as adults and maybe eventually equals. She wanted to work with her grown children, to protect them and allow them to protect her. That's what he wants in this moment. He already knows how Moira would handle this issue, though. She handled it before and he was none the wiser. Would she trust him more now than she had then? Would she have been right to do so?

Although he's more settled now, he doesn't know how to take care of a kid. Samantha has obviously figured that out as she's gone. From his infuriating outsider perspective in a coffee shop, he saw more than a few things pointing to the fact his son has been brought up well and by a mother who loves him. She didn't need Oliver's involvement to manage it. William seems normal, clean and in a warm coat. Samantha wasn't too far from him at any given time and she kissed his forehead. He was a good boy who leaned into the kiss instead of brushing it away. He accepted her affection in an easy way Oliver never had accepted Moira's.

What if he ruins all that by crashing in the way he tends to do?

He's always been selfish. That definitely isn't a secret. That's the only thing he wears consistently on his sleeve. He's tried not to be ruled by it and he's had some mixed results in trying to shed that skin. Still, bringing another person into his life would be placing them at risk. In this case, William isn't old enough to understand those risks. Is Oliver selfish enough to make the choice for him, for Samantha? He doesn't know her well, had really only seen her a few times and couldn't remember the one time he fucked her beyond saying it had been at one of Tommy's parties, in Tommy's bed no less. He definitely doesn't know her well enough to know if she would embrace his desire to be involved or if she would fight him on it.

He knows Felicity well enough to know how she's going to react. It'll be rambling and a little hilarious, but ultimately supportive and pushy. She'll know what to do with this in half the time it'll take him to figure it out. He'll probably be pissed and he'd go off-center before begrudgingly admitting she's right and accepting her suggestions. As anxious as he is to be near her, to kiss her and talk to her about all of this so it can be real and start to be settled within him, he finds himself texting her to say he's going to meet up with Thea for a bit and then he'll meet her at home.

Thea had front row seats to all his attempts at truly caring for another person. He went to her dance recitals, occasionally took her to karate during a brief flirtation. He showed up to break her drug dealer's neck, though he's still never told her that was him. She has forgiven his mistakes and let him make things up to her. He turned himself over to the League to save her. She wasn't there to see his desperation, but he's sure she knows it was there. All he's ever wanted to do was protect her – from him, from herself, from the world. She's seen that side of him very clearly, in a familial way no one else has. She's seen him as clearly as Moira ever did, even if she lacks some of the details. He's getting better about filling them in and for better or worse, this is the next step.

He shouldn't be put out by Laurel answering the door. He knows they're home, knows the team has a rare night off. He's just so far in his head he can't divert his focus; he needs his sister and his ex-girlfriend isn't an adequate substitute.

"Hey, Ollie," she says. "I didn't know you were back."

"I'm… yeah. Barely. Is Thea home?" He asks, his hands shoved in his pocket and his gaze wary on her face. He's definitely not telling her about this – ever if he can help it because of all the implications it has about their past. She swings the door open to let him in and he shakes his head. She looks at him strangely, but just calls for his sister.

"Hey, you're back!" Thea says, going up on tiptoes to give him a hug. "Have you even been home yet?"

"No," he says, releasing her. "I wanted to speak to you first."

"Is everything okay?"

It says so much about the state of their relationship that she turns and just falls into step with him, even though she came out with a blanket in her hand that she wraps around herself as they make their way down the hall outside Laurel's apartment. He's grateful for it in ways he couldn't ever express. Not for the first time, he feels like at least some of the things they've been through were worth it.

"Yes," he says. His hands are back in his pockets and his shoulders are hunched. Even he knows that isn't posture that speaks to things being okay. Her glance at him plainly says she doesn't believe him in the slightest. "No."

"I figured. Are you and Felicity fighting, because…"

"No," he cuts her off. She's about to protest because she generally isn't his go-to person for relationship advice for a lot of reasons. It mostly has nothing to do with her and everything to do with the perspective John Diggle can provide with more ease. "It doesn't have anything to do with her, at least not yet."

"Okay," she says, dragging the word out like girl problems are the only reason he'd have to seek her out, even though she's part of his vigilante team and she's his campaign manager. "Then what?"

"I have a son," he blurts. While he's made an art out of badly dancing around the truth, he can't contain this one. "He lives in Central City. Mom…" He trails off because he doesn't have any idea how to finish that sentence.

"Mom _what_?"

"I told her when I found out I'd gotten someone pregnant. It was just before me and dad left and there was a phone call. Sandra said she'd lost the baby and that was that but…"

"Obviously that wasn't that," Thea says, stopping and setting her hand on his arm. There's really no point in continuing to walk. He's being aimless, his proprioception at an unusual low, and he's already said what he needed to say.

"No. Mom paid her to lie. I don't have all the details, but they don't matter. She lives in Central City." He sighs and focuses his gaze on something that isn't his sister's sympathetic face. "I saw him."

"Yeah, I'm gonna need more information, Ollie." He can feel the way she's watching him and, though he's been a lot more open with her in general, the feeling is strong enough he's keeping his guard up. He isn't giving her all the details here, even about his own reaction, which is stupid because he came to her first. She puts her hand on his arm again. "Hey. You came to me for a reason. So explain."

He swallows and looks at her. The touch did something to orient him, to bring him back to the conversation. "Barry and I stopped for coffee and I returned a toy to some kid in the coffee shop. He ran off, back to his mom, and when I saw her it all fell into place. I didn't talk to her much before I had to come back but… he looks like me. Carbon copy of that picture of me and mom right before you were born. Except he's _happy_. I don't know…" he blows out a nervous breath. "I don't know what to do with it."

"Who's the girl?" She folds her arms and leans back. "Because weren't you and Laurel pretty hot and heavy then?"

He tilts his head. "Yes and no. It was complicated. I hooked up with her at a party, just one time. I didn't know her before that and then after..."

Thea just nods. She knows all about _after_. She lost her brother for five years. Nothing was the same when he came back. He definitely didn't look up an old one night stand in Central City who said she miscarried their baby.

"I'm selfish and I know that. I don't know if I can be selfish here. I don't want to just crash in, but…"

"But you have a huge heart you don't want to admit has room for at least one more," Thea fills in. Her hand is back on his arm and she steps closer. "Look, Ollie, you haven't always been the best brother. You had some growing up to do before you could ever take care of another person, but guess what? You tried and I always knew you cared. I know you've always tried your best to protect me and you've always shown me that you love me, even if it was in the most messed up ways." She smiles. "But _now_? I don't think you realize how much you've changed in the last six months. I do. I can see it all the time. That kid would be lucky to have you the way you are now. I don't know if Mom was right before. Probably not. She usually wasn't. We just have to deal as best we can since she isn't around to explain."

He offers a brief breath, a slight laugh. He could argue, wants to disagree with some of what she's said, but this is exactly why he came to her and she isn't wrong about all of it. Her words have eased the pressure in his chest however slightly.

"I wish she was," he finally offers.

"Me, too," Thea agrees. "That doesn't mean I don't think you got this. Talk to Felicity. Talk to…whoever this girl is. Don't get all impatient and ahead of yourself. Baby steps." She snorts a little indelicately. "No pun intended."

He winces on the bad joke. "You make it sound so easy."

"Don't even pretend that's not the reason you came to me first." She smiles and it's a little smug. "I think that's the first time you've done that. See how much you've grown?"

He cracks a smile that becomes a small but genuine laugh as he reaches for a hug. He's always been a little more affectionate with her. He wonders if that would translate to being a dad and, for the first time, the acknowledgement that he's a father doesn't come with the slicing feeling of fear. "I love you, Speedy."

"I love you, too." She steps back and the distance makes it clear they're done here. She's become a strong woman, though, and he thinks maybe that strength has rubbed off a little tonight. Maybe what he needed all along was the sister he has, not the mother they miss. They can rely on each other for the big things now. "Now go home. You have a conversation way harder than this one to take care of."

He scowls at her smile. "Thanks a lot."

"I already told you I think you can do it." She grins. "That doesn't mean I'm not going to enjoy watching you simmer in it a little."

"Mean," he protests.

She starts backing away from him. "Call me and let me know how it goes." Her only answer is a reluctant nod before she's gone.

Her words stick with him, though, turn over in his head as he makes his way home. It isn't the first time he's paused for a brief second to appreciate the concept. He has a _home_. He's built one with someone, and their home is warm and inviting and safe. It's comfortable and happy and stable.

Oliver is still getting to know the present-day reincarnation of William's father. What does he know about that guy?

William's father knows what it's like to love fiercely and to feel that love returned. He knows now how to avoid taking it for granted, and he's making the effort every day not to be selfish with it. He's got a vote of confidence from a solid source who knows a lot about what can make a good father – because she's had examples of both good and bad fathers. William's father has a solid partner, trusted advisors in his life, and is already responsible for things and people way bigger than himself. Adding one or two more isn't as intimidating as it used to be.

William's father wants him and loves him already, even though William doesn't know him. He may have always felt that way a little, in some abstract way, but now he's in a position to do something with it. That's enough for now, even if Samantha doesn't want to let him get involved. He can work that out with her later. Feeling committed is, oddly enough, all he needed. He doesn't really run from commitment anymore, as evidenced by the keys and home he shares with an incredible woman who is waiting for him.

Turns out, in spite of overall good advice, Thea had it backwards. They aren't lucky to have him. He's lucky to have them.

Somehow that's all that matters. Everything else will sort itself out.


End file.
